


Who Do You Love?

by n0vacane



Series: Who Do You Love? [1]
Category: EXO (Band), SHINee, f(x)
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 18:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11812065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n0vacane/pseuds/n0vacane
Summary: “Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.”― Neil Gaiman, The Kindly Ones





	Who Do You Love?

**Author's Note:**

> Kim Jongin as Alex  
> Krystal Jung as Nova  
> Choi Minho as Benoit  
> –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––  
> Hello, dear readers. Welcome to my very first story... Ever. I'm really anxious and nervous to present it to the public, but I'm going into this with an open heart and I hope you enjoy my work. I accept all constructive criticism as long as it's not borderline bullying. Please enjoy, thank you for reading!

_**1.**_  
  
“You know, I didn't expect that from you,” The warm ocean breeze dances on my skin causing the hairs on my body to stand up. “you're braver than I thought, my love.” It's been exactly twenty two days since we fled Japan and ended up back in my homeland – France. The events that occurred on the twenty fourth of September still continue to haunt me. Even though I regret absolutely nothing a crime is still a crime. A dead man is still dead.  
  
The setting sun painted the once blue sky various shades of yellow, orange and red. The yellow brought joy to my heart, orange warmed my guts and red ignited a flame within. I turned my gaze away from the sky onto the woman sitting beside me. Her framework was sculpted by Aphrodite herself but her spirit held a striking resemblance to Athena. Except sometimes Hades found refuge in her heart. Despite that, I knew that deep inside she harbors a pure soul that unfortunately has been tarnished and tainted by time. Yet there are remnants of that sweet child-like innocence still lingering in her gold-flecked eyes.  
  
“Sometimes I still have dreams about them, which, I assume, is pretty... normal in this situation. I wake up at the dusk of dawn drenched in sweat, my entire system threatening to shut down, but then I remember... it's all over. Kind of. They're dead. I killed them. Well. Some of them. Yet I still find myself checking twice if the door is locked or if that's actually a lamppost and not a person.” I catch the sight of a tear rolling down Nova's cheek and quickly reach out to wipe it away. “You know it was for the better, my love. I couldn't bear to witness another man reveling in your warmth. If killing them wasn't an option, gouging out my eyes was the next best thing.”  
  
And then there was blood. The droplet of tears manifested into a drop of blood and my arms went numb. Her once white top suddenly turned into a color mimicking the hues of red that danced in the sky. Pretty pink cheeks washed out with the color of alabaster. White and sickly. Gorgeous crimson locks fell down her shoulders like strings of hay. The scariest part of all was the painful grimace that twisted her doll-like face...  
  
And in a blink of an eye... she was gone.  
  
So was the beach.  
  
And the mosaic of colors that was the sky.  
  
**_2._**  
  
With a loud cry for help, my eyes ripped wide open. A dream. It was just a dream. Beads of cold sweat dripped down my spine and forehead. I immediately reached out for the light switch, turning on the ceiling lamp. Instinctively my hands began to search for a woman beside me and when they finally grasped her hips – a wave of relief washed over my body and calmed my soul.  
  
“Nova...” I pressed my lips against her temple. My left hand slid from her hip downwards and rested on her soft thigh. “Are you awake?” Even if she wasn't, obviously she was now because I could feel her jerk a little under my touch. But before I could begin my next sentence, her significantly smaller hands shoved me away from her warmth and I could feel a sharp, short pain in my chest...  
  
_**3.**_  
  
It was my fault. I was well aware that she didn't like when I touched her in a way those men did, but my ego couldn't help but feel a little insulted. Instead of erupting in a fit of anger and frustration I resorted to a refreshing midnight stroll in the city to soothe my manhood.  
  
The moonlit streets were littered with people. Some were enjoying a glass of wine with their lovers, some women were making ends meet by selling their bodies to the night and some were looking for trouble. Despite the lurking dangers – I love the city. The city loves you in ways no person ever could.  
  
It listens to your fierce footsteps, the clicking of polished heels against it's dirty pavements early on a Monday morning. It sees you smile ear to ear when you see the windows on it's skyscrapers reflect the orange glow of the afternoon sun. It empathises with your frustrated groan long past midnight when you can't flag down a taxi to take you home. It hears your satisfied sigh in winter as the first sip of a morning coffee warms your throat and thaws your freezing hands. It celebrates with you when you're on top of the world and cries for you when life gets hard. The city sees and hears and feels every moment of every day of your life. The city understands.  
  
_**4.**_  
  
I stopped by a bar I frequented at when I was a rebellious teen looking to blow off some steam. The bar was thousands of conversations told in loud voices followed by a roar of laughter. The crowd was young, there was barely anyone over the age of twenty eight. A busty bartender offered another glass of whiskey, but in my half drunken stupor – I declined.  
  
As I was about to exit the building I felt someone elbow me in the ribcage. An accident probably. My eyes found the culprit in a crowd of young men who didn't look all too friendly. “Pardon me, gentlemen, but is everything alright?” And as those words left my throat, the young lad swung a fist.  
  
Everything happened way too fast for me to grasp the situation but I was quickly brought back to reality by the pressure and pain that struck my jaw. My body went into flight or fight mode and I was not one to back away from a brawl. Our surroundings went quiet then violent. In a blink of an eye, people began to gather around me and my opponent like bees on honey.  
  
He swung. I ducked and shoved him back into the crowd with all of my might. Punch one by his comrade followed soon and the pain from my jaw spread to my nasal cavity. Then punch two came along and I was starting to feel a bit disoriented. My knees hit the ground, not long after two pairs of muscular hands grabbed me by the arms and secured me in place.  
  
Punch three and four came in a sequence. The pungent taste of iron filled my mouth and crimson blood spewed from my nose. And then the kicking began. Kick one came straight for the ribs, kick two – to the stomach. Kick three came to a halt when someone violently broke through the crowd and pushed my attacker away. “What the fuck is going on?! Get the fuck outta here before I call the cops!”  
  
_**5.**_  
  
The man was of Asian decent in his mid thirties, tall and muscular. He sported a black pompadour and the same colored five o'clock shadow. He wore a pair of worn dark-wash jeans and a white t-shirt. An array of rings embellished his fingers and a flashy Rolex watch of some sorts twinkled on his wrist.  
  
After he ever so kindly interrupted our little quarrel and the gang of young men left the premise, the older man introduced himself as Benoit Durant, or simply just Ben, owner of the bar. “Let's get you patched up, kid.” He offered a helping hand for me to get up off the ground and ushered me to a small little backroom. I winced as I sat down on the small couch that took up most of the space in the small room.  
  
“Do you know those guys?” Ben took out a first aid kit from under the couch and proceeded to go over the standard wound cleaning procedure. I felt a brief sharp pain when the hydrogen peroxide touched the gashes but it was nothing compared to the pounding in my head after it suffered all of those blows.  
  
“No, sir. I just came here for a drink and they jumped me completely out of the blue.” I dragged my tongue along the upper row of my teeth collecting the blood from in between the pearly whites. “They're probably just some hooligans looking for trouble. It's fine. No need to call the cops.”  
  
**_6._**  
  
I didn't want to call the cops partially because I was afraid they might catch on to the deeds I've done in Japan. That would mean at least two consecutive life sentences for three second degree murders and an additional ten years for grand theft. I'm not scared of prison, but being locked up behind bars would mean having to separate with Nova. I couldn't let that. Nova didn't deserve that.  
  
“Good. I don't want the cops as much as you do.” Ben offered me a pitiful smile. His eyes looked over the dozens of bruises that now decorated my face as his hand gently guided my chin from left to right. “They fucked up that pretty little face of yours good. Those are some nasty bruises, kid.” Judging by his occupation and assumed way of living, Ben seemed like a man that has witnessed not one and not two of these types of bar fights. Or just fights in general.  
  
“This is definitely not the first time I've suffered a beating, but it's surely been a pretty long time.” I wasn't lying. The last time I had a physical altercation was back in Japan when some idiot tried to record Nova. It wasn't a fair brawl considering the fact that the man barely reached my chin and looked like the word "gym" wasn't a part of his vocabulary. Of course, tonight's fight wasn't all that fair as well except I was on the losing side. “I think I should head home. I'll swing by tomorrow if I make it until sunrise.”  
  
Benoit found my joke quite amusing and a wide-set grin appeared on his slightly aged face. “You're funny, kid. If you manage to reach home tonight then I bet you five euros that you'll make it until tomorrow,” he gave my shoulder a firm squeeze. “Please, stop by, I'll treat you to a nice cold beer. Or something stronger 'cause you'll be definitely needing some pain relief in the morning.”  
  
“Thank you for the help. Without your help I maybe would have ended up in the ICU.” I stood up from my seat and slowly made my way to the slightly cracked open door.  
  
“Take care, kid.”  
  
With those words I left the bar.


End file.
